


cold slumber

by CC_Writes_Stuff



Series: Make It Hurt: Whumptober 2020 [21]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Chapter 13: Reunion at Dawn (Fire Emblem), F/M, Female My Unit | Byleth, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Golden Deer Route Spoilers, Hypothermia, My Unit | Byleth Being My Unit | Byleth, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Soft Claude von Riegan, Stressed Claude von Riegan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:47:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26919064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CC_Writes_Stuff/pseuds/CC_Writes_Stuff
Summary: Apparently, clambering out from a river dressed in only in ragged, thin, and drenched clothes (including a pair of lace tights) into cold winter air leads to hypothermia, as Byleth is about to realize.-Written for Whumptober Day 21: I Don't Feel So Well...
Relationships: My Unit | Byleth/Claude von Riegan
Series: Make It Hurt: Whumptober 2020 [21]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1915390
Comments: 2
Kudos: 73
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	cold slumber

_Five years._

Byleth couldn’t believe it. Five years. Five years of war. Five years she spent sleeping in a river. Five years for her students to fight without her by her side.

She shivered as she walked through the ruins of Garreg Mach, rubbing her arms to try and keep warm. Tried to recall what had happened before she fell, but Byleth’s memory came back in hazy bits and pieces.

The war horns that echoed in the distance as Byleth ate with her Deer that had sent them into a panic, fighting against the Empire and turning back the hands of time to keep her students from dying, a giant dragon in the sky that roared to the heavens, a pain in her chest, the ground falling out beneath her feet. Weightlessness, and then something green and gold bursting behind her eyes as something warmed grasped her arms, then black.

Blackness, and then waking up on the bank of a river, learning five years had passed her by.

They hadn't, right? It was a joke, it had to be, some sort of cruel joke fate was playing on her.

The monastery was silent as Byleth walked, stumbling and tripping over her feet, legs weak from five years of disuse. And no matter how much she looked, she couldn’t see any sign of life, not even a stray cat or dog. It was too quiet, and it made Byleth shiver. Where were her students? Had Edelgard really drove them all out there? Byleth didn’t know, and she hated it. She needed to see if her students were okay. She needed to see if this was real.

“Hello?” Byleth called out as she entered through the gates of Garreg Mach, her voice cracking. “Is anyone there? Leonie? Lorenz? Hilda? Claude? Anyone?”

Only echoes answered her calls, bouncing off the stone walls and the hollow in her chest where her heartbeat should be. It made Byleth’s breath hitch. Her students could be dead... this was some sort of dream. They couldn’t be dead. She could not allow it.

The cold air snapped and bit at Byleth’s skin as she walked, going through her old haunts. The fishing pond was overgrown with algae, the kitchen tables overturned, the dorms raided, rooms broken into, including Byleth’s own. Her rug and sheets were moth-eaten, table and desk dusty. Like they hadn’t been touched in years.

They may very well haven’t been. The thought rings hollow and sorrow in her chest, scratching at her heart, and heavy.

Shaking her head, Byleth steps out of her room, rubbing her arms together. Her steps are uncoordinated and clumsy as she walks, looking for any sign of life, despite how hard it seems to be able to move. All she wants to do is sleep and wake up back in her own bed, five years ago, where there was no impending war or missing students.

Byleth doesn’t even realize she’s walking towards the Goddess Tower until she’s standing at the foot of it. Claude’s words echo in her mind, of meeting up again five years from the day of the Millennium Festival.

Hadn’t the villager said it was the Millennium Festival tomorrow? Even though she just had the conversation, it’s already slipping from her grasp, like trying to hold sand or water. Like trying to hold the memories of her childhood years, with her father and the mercenaries. Memories that, although had gotten clearer and bigger over the years, were still missing pieces, a larger part of the puzzle.

The oak door groans and creaks with age as Byleth pushes it open, the wood rough on her hands. Coldness from the stone walls creeps into her skin, past the thin layers she’s wearing, the lace of her tights, and under her skin. It claws deep into her skin, making her shiver and wish for a larger jacket. Something to stave off the heat.

Like a baby fawn just learning how to walk, Byleth stumbles up the steps of the Goddess tower, tripping over herself and stumbling, scraping her knee and hitting her hand against the rough stone. She winces, but keeps moving on - she’s learned how to move past pain long ago, even if her legs feel brittle, weak, like they might shatter at the faintest touch. But, she manages to make it to the top, to another large oak door.

On the other side of this door is a person.

For the briefest moment, Byleth tenses, hand going to the hilt of her sword because she doesn’t recognize them, they could be an Imperial Soldier-

-but then she takes note of the gaudy amount of gold, a bulky bow with a Crest stone leaning on the wall next to them, and sharp, emerald green eyes that widen when the figure turns and meets her gaze, reflecting the sunlight of the breaking dawn.

Byleth knows those eyes. The rest of him had... changed... but Byleth knows those green eyes like the back of her hand.

Before she can even think of moving, Claude is pulling her into a tight hug, crushing her bones, and _good heavens_ is he _warm_.

“Teach,” he croaks out, voice quiet and shaking, like this is an illusion, and speaking any louder will shatter it. “You’re alive... you’re alive...”

His arms are wrapped around her, one around her back, and the other on the back of her head, burying her face into his shoulder. He smells like honey and sunshine, and is as warm as a fire. Byleth shivers. She probably smells like grime and blood and river water, her skin still wet and cold.

“Claude...?” She says, her own voice still hoarse from disuse, and it sounds like a question. It shakes, too, and she isn’t sure why.

He nods. “Yeah. It’s me, Teach,” he tells her, voice still wavering. It takes him another moment to step back, taking the heat with him, his expression carefully guarded, hands on her shoulders, and he’s looking deep into her eyes.

 _He’s older,_ Byleth realizes, looking at him. Claude’s brown hair, once mussy and curly and wild, is now slicked back and straight, the signature braid he wore gone and replaced by a stray strand of hair. His jaw sharpened, more square than it had been, any traces of baby fat gone, and he sported a light beard that came down the side of his jaw. His chest and shoulders had also broadened in her absence, adorned with gold and fancy fabrics and a pauldron.

“You… you have a beard,” is all Byleth can think to say, reaching a hand up and bringing it to rest on his jaw, and it’s hard to get the words out, like speaking through molasses. She sees Claude gulp, and brings a hand - gloved, she realizes - up to rest on it. She can feel the warmth that radiates through the fabric, hot against her skin, and it makes her shiver. His expression is something Byleth can’t read.

It hits her like an arrow to the chest, then, that it really has been five years. That the villager wasn’t lying or pulling some sort of prank on her, that she had actually been asleep in a river for five years. It’s a painful, bitter feeling that sneaks through her armor and takes root somewhere in her chest, making it hard to breathe, sucking any energy she may have had right out of her.

She wants to ask what happened. If she’s actually been asleep for five years. Apologize for doing so. Claude speaks before she can, though, voice low.

“It’s been a long five years. Where have you been, my friend?” He asks, rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand.

Byleth struggles to get the words out past the swirl of emotions and feelings that swirl around in her chest like a tempest, choking her. It takes her a moment to speak.

“I… I was... sleeping,” She says, hesitantly, almost choking on it, voice quiet, and she looks down, unable to meet his eyes, his expectant gaze.

 _Sleeping_. Sleeping, like she’s Sothis. She hates it.

Claude laughs, but it’s too hollow, too forced, to be real. “That’s… that’s a good one, Teach. Byleth opens her mouth to protest, but the words die in her throat. Claude, on his part, seems to pick up on it. He sighs, heavy and weary. “Except… that’s not your lying face. Guess I have no choice but to believe you.”

“You… you do?” She asks, looking up at him again, because Claude is the kind of person to pry into and question everything, looking for the specific mechanics on how they work, her included. He nods.

“You’re not exactly normal, to begin with, Teach,” he says. “So… it’s not a stretch to imagine you sleeping for that long... Aaand this is the part where you say _‘just kidding,’_ right?” There’s too much fake cheeriness behind that, and it makes something vicious snap at Byleth’s chest. “If this is a rib, now’s the time to-

“It’s the truth,” she snaps out a little more viciously than she intended, her gaze snapping to the ground again. A gust of wind blows through the room, and Byleth shivers again, drawing away from Claude and wrapping her arms around herself in a feeble attempt to warm herself.

A hollow, breathy laugh. “You must be insane,” Claude says, shaking his head. There it is, Byleth can’t help but think. The distrust. The questioning. The trying to see whatever walls Claude thinks she puts up to protect whatever secrets Rhea hid from the world.

“I’m not,” Byleth says, shaking her head. “I… the last thing I can remember is… is the battle, fighting against… against Edelgard. The ground falling out beneath my feet, and then a… weightlessness, and then… something cold, and then black…” She gulped, shaking. “I… I woke up on a… on a riverbank, and the villager that… the villager that found me said… he… he said that… that five years had passed. That the Millenium Festival was… was tomorrow.

“I went… I went looking for everyone, an… anyone, but… no one’s here. It’s… quiet. It’s empty. You… you’re the first person I’ve found…”

She looks up to meet his gaze, then, hoping that he’ll know, that he won’t question it like he does everything else concerning her. Byleth is tired and upset and confused. At least the coldness she felt had started to fade away.

As always, Claude’s expression is inscrutable, emerald green eyes sharp and boring into her, lips pressed into a thin line. Like he’s trying to decide whether he can believe her words. Byleth feels her confidence wavering with each passing second.

Finally, Claude speaks and breaks the silence.

“Fine… I believe you, my friend,” he sighs, running a hand through his hair and looking up at the sky. Byleth lets out a silent sigh of relief, some of the pressure in her chest fading. He doesn’t seem convinced, but… she thinks it’ll hold for now. “But that means you don’t know anything that happened after the invasion, right?”

Byleth shakes her head.

“Guess it’s on me to catch you up, then,” Claude sighs, and looks out to the window again. He makes a sweeping gesture with his hand. “As you can see… Garreg Mach was crushed by the Empire, and never restored. The town’s in pretty bad shape too…”

She thinks he say something afterward, but it’s hard to tell, the world slowly becoming blurry and fuzzy, out of focus as he talks. The next thing Byleth can register is Claude’s arms around her, warm against where they wrap around her, and solid.

“...ach?” He says, voice fading in and out of her ears. “Teach… ou he… me? Wh… wrong?”

She’s not sure, and the world slips from her grasp before she can think of a response to that.

**Author's Note:**

> [I Have a Tumblr!](https://ccwritesstuff.tumblr.com/)


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